


Now What?

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an attempt at writing based off a prompt from yeahwriters.tumblr.com.</p><p>Prompt: Write about a night spent in a hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now What?

The machines beep. All they do is beep; the rhythm changes, but the beeping never ends. For the entire night it has been the same, steady beeping. The machines are announcing to the world she still lives; the doctors have told me to view it as a positive sign. The chair, beige and uncomfortable, provides minimal support, and despite the pain in my back, I feel exhausted. Standing up proves a harder challenge than enduring the pain.

  
The beeping is infuriating. The medical staff claims it announces she remains alive, but whenever I look at her, it seems more like she is just a corpse being kept warm.

  
The machines are living for her. A catheter empties her bladder for her, an IV provides her with nourishment, and a machines do the breathing. Currently, science keeps her body alive, but I've been told hope remains. Her brain could still be functioning.  
  
I left once, about an hour after the hospital said I could see her. I had to get food. I had to try to contact someone, anyone. I needed to use the restroom. While completing those chores, the machines changed their tune. I don't remember exactly what the doctors said - the terms were complicated and the explanation confusing, but a nurse explained to me she might never wake up. She had stopped breathing at one point, or her heart might have stopped beating for too long or the brain might have been too oxygen deprived for too long. Too many things could have gone wrong when those machines signaled a change.

  
No matter what happened, exactly, if she does wake up there will be an unending amount of hardships she will have to face, endure, and overcome. We never talked about what we wanted if this were to happen. A nurse, a doctor, even a counselor asked if she ever, at any point, mentioned whether or not she'd want the plug pulled. We were young and happy and never expecting to be in this situation; we never told each other.

  
There is no one to call or text. My phone broke after I had tossed it at a wall. The frustration of the impotence I felt proved unbearable and destroying the phone had helped, but now anyone who could help, I can't reach. The decision remains though and is quite literally life or death. I'd pray for wisdom, for guidance, for a miracle, or even just a sign, but I have never believed in a deity that helps humanity. I would choose a religion now, but I cannot bring myself to trust that this is for the betterment of society. There is no better society with her in this state.

  
I had, once, told a friend to give me a month before pulling the plug. I wish I had asked her after telling my friend. I wish we had never left the house. The machines have picked up their pace again, but they calm right afterwards. The nurses and doctors rush in anyways. They consult the machines, check her body, add something to her chart, and then tell me it was probably nothing. Probably.

  
I haven't been feeling lucky lately. I doubt it was nothing. Part of me wishes she had just died, so I wouldn't have to make the choice now. There hasn't been time yet for a brain test. If no higher functioning exists, if the machines are the only reason she remains alive, then I'll have them unplug everything. She's an organ donor; I think. Her death, however premature I feel it is, will at least help others live.  
The doctors are returning, telling me it is time for her tests. I nod, too drained to focus. I settle back into the chair, slouch down a little. I've never been one for naps, but the thought of one is incredibly appealing now.

  
I close my eyes for a second, but in the next, a doctor is shaking my shoulder. She died during the tests. I feel relieved that I don't have to make a decision.

  
After that thought, the guilt surges. I just felt relief she died.

  
I sit there. The doctor is asking me if I feel okay. I nod again. Not for a moment do I think she believes me. She lets me stay there, probably to process everything, maybe to give me privacy. I don't known, and I don't care. She's saying something, but I can't hear what. After a bit, she leaves, and I become alone in the room.

  
My eyes feel wet and everything blurs. They sting. The pain reminds me of something. Until now, I hadn't cried at all. Once it starts, I can't stop crying, but the worst part is I've started laughing. I'm crying, and I'm laughing, and I want today, tonight, this week, this month, even this year never to have happened.

  
When I finish crying, and the laughter has subsided, I step out of the room. The nurses keep giving me looks of sympathy. I realize the walls probably barely muffle sounds, so they can respond to the incessant beeping from the infernal machines.  
I go up to the counter. I pay for the hospital room and collect her stuff. There's a funeral to plan, and people to inform. There might not be enough money for any of it. I'll check if cremation is cheaper.

Walking through the waiting room, I press the elevator and look at the people.  Everyone appears happy.  I can't stand it and hurry down the stairs.  Halfway down, I hear a ding signalling the elevator's arrival.

I unclip my keys from one of my belt loops as I finish my descent.  I stumble down the past few steps.  Walking out the door, I immediately have to squint my eyes.  The sun burns.  I just now realize I spent an entire day in a hospital.  With everything still to do, I almost wish...  

I stop the thought there and get in the car.  After the funeral or spreading the ashes, I can indulge in dreams and what ifs.  


End file.
